Carbomb meets Whoopie Pie

That's right friends...the two most amazing things I make.....put together.
Last night, my lovely assistant (my pink mixer) and myself whipped up a batch of Guinness whoopies with Bailey's filling.

They are going over pretty well, and I'm excited, because they are really my first 100% original recipe. It's been suggested that I submit them to the America's Best Home Cooks show on Food Network. It's being considered.

Happy St. Patty's all!!!

4,057

Once, in college someone sent me a link to a website that alleged to tell you, based on your preferences, how many men you would have to meet before you met your soul mate. A Soul Mate Calculator I believe.
I remember answering the questions as truthfully as possible, wondering if I'd have to meet 2, or maybe 5. Or worst case scenario...10. I was around 23, and I think I figured it was about damn time.
The answer.....
4,057!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Being me, I immediately started to attempt to define the word "met." Are we talking passing on the street? Did I have to introduce myself or would a "Do you have the time?" suffice? Or, God forbid, was the universe expecting me to go out on 4, 057 dates before I found someone who would think I was wonderful.

In true optimistic form, I decided that every man I made eye contact with counted. Even the ones that fell outside of my criteria. I'd get through 4,057 meetings in no time, and be happily wrapped in an afghan on my couch with the object of my affection by 24!

I bet you all can guess the outcome of this. Here I am, at 28, and I have just been reminded by life that I have at least 2,843 left to go. And I can no longer optimistically decide that every man under the age of 85 who glances my way at the crosswalk counts. Nope...I am starting to think that I can only count people I've had a real conversation with. This is depressing.

If you need me, I'll be eating a pint of Hagen Daaz and watching romantic comedies in my bed.

D.I.Y.

I am a very self sufficient woman. I'm not the best at asking for help actually. If something is too much for me, you can usually find me cussing at it to the point of tears, stubbornly trying to bend the project to my will. I have utter confidence that these are things that I CAN do. It's just a matter of trying and trying. And trying. And maybe screaming at it a little.
So with that set up in place, let me tell you what I decided to do this weekend. I was going to wall mount my TV.
Stop laughing.
So I have already purchased a cheap wall mount from Ikea. I know this is maybe not the best place to cut corners, but I couldn't resist. So cheap! Problem is that the damn thing doesn't fit. How was I supposed to know that each TV manufacturer hatched a plan to put their screw holes in different places. I can just imagine some weaselly guy in a suit somewhere, rubbing his bony fingered hands together in anticipation of the frustration he would cause.
So I discover that you can get an adapter. Someone at the Radio Shack near my office tells me that it's a really simple thing if I know the model of my TV.
Friday I ran into Radio Shack in my own neighborhood. Just a quick trip, because I know what I want. But they don't carry adapters. He tries to talk me into an entirely different wall mount. I get kind of upset, because he's talking to me like I'm an idiot. Clearly because I do not possess a Y chromosome, I can't know what I'm talking about in relation to home improvement or electronics. Certainly not in an area where the two cross over.
But I buy the thing. He assures me that it swivels and tilts and is everything my old one was, and it will fit my TV because it is universal. I figure he must know what he's talking about if he works in an electronic store.
Stop laughing.
I was also proud of myself for not punching him in the face when he was ringing up my purchase and explaining that inside the walls, there is insulation, and things called studs. I know he was trying to be nice...but come on jackass. Who doesn't know that walls are not made of jello and have actual supports in them.
Next I stopped by the hardware store, where I was going to pick up a stud finder and an electric screwdriver. I honestly did not know that this would not drive the screws in unless there was a hole there already. The guy who explained that did so in a voice that suggested that he thought I was either retarded, or did not speak English. And that I was violent. He carefully removed the screwdriver from my hands saying "ooh, I'm going to take this from you now...and I'm just going to put it over here. " Okay guy. I won't drive it into your eye.
So, stud finder, hammer, screws, anchors and a wall mount in hand, I go back to my apartment. I had an assignment to go to a new store for a drill. I COULD do this.
And then I discovered that the wall mount was not what I wanted. Not at all. It didn't swivel, and that means that due to how my room is set up, I'd have to sit in the corner to watch TV. Ideal.
I realize this is dragging on...but it's unbelievable. I went to Best Buy the next day at 9. They open at 10, even though the website said 9. I waited. I finally bought a swiveling, tilting wall mount that fits the screw holes in my TV. The guy didn't talk down to me. I spent twice as much as I intended. But I got an open box deal, so it was good. I get it home, and decide that after the cable guy comes (somewhere between 12-2) I'd go get a drill. I was actually hoping that he might do the installation for me at this point. I opened the box to start putting it together. screws? Check. TV attaching plate? Check. Swivel arm? Check. Instruction manual? um...where the hell is the manual?!?!? Oh Christ.
By the way....the cable guy finally showed up at 3:45.
Screw DIY. Next time, I'm hiring a dude.

Late baking

I am so behind on posting cupcakes and baking projects!! There are unicorns and farm animal cupcake pics on the way!!

Mr. Perfect

As you can tell, there is a current streak of man craziness running through my life. I can't help it. I don't know if you've noticed, but they are EVERYWHERE!

I was talking to my friend a while ago, and we decided that Hollywood gives women really unrealistic expectations about men. Think about it. Name one romantic comedy that could actually happen. With a man that looks like they do, no less.

In the interest of science (and in the case that anyone is still reading this) I have decided to identify the men that most appeal to me in movies, and then blame them for my unrealistic expectations.

First up, let's go back to my childhood.

Wesley (Princess Bride)
This is my version of the handsome prince. He gave me the expectation that it's possible for a perfectly ordinary man you have known all your life to suddenly become the soul mate you didn't know you had. All he has to do get noticed is to take over a pirate ship, become immune to poison, fight 3 bad guys to rescue you, befriend them, come back from the dead and scare the crap out of your new boyfriend. Simple.

Johnny (Dirty Dancing)
He's the reason I'm waiting for some experienced older man to see some spark of uniqueness in me, despite the fact that I'm surrounded by model-gorgeous professional dancers. He'll teach me to dance, take me out in the woods in the rain and then kindly let me clumsily seduce him. As I get older, this goes from unlikely to absolutely ridiculous.

In college I discovered:

Jonathan Trager (Serendipity)
Here is a man that will live his whole life trying to find the woman he thinks is his destiny. Just when he gives in and lets life happen, she shows up. He made me wish my freckles were in the shape of constellations. He made me sure I could miss an opportunity with a man, and that fate would bring him right back to me later in life. He made me read "Love in a Time of Cholera."
He's also responsible for one of my favorite movie quotes:
"How do you feel?"
"Like a Jackass!"

Crash Davis (Bull Durham)
Whoo..do I ever have a bone to pick with Crash Davis. Poor Annie is busy deluding herself into thinking her life is full with baseball and teaching young men the ways of the world, and here he comes, well read and confident, quietly sexy. Damn him. She didn't even know what she was missing. I think I will live out the rest of my single life waiting for my Crash Davis. (There are some seriously wonderful quotes in this movie too. "Oh Crash, You do make speeches.")

And most recently, I'm a little ashamed to admit:

Edward Cullen (Twilight)
Alright, I get it that he's a vampire. But tell me ladies, what isn't sexy about a man who finds you so irresistible that he can not stay away from you, even if it might be the worst thing for you both? And some of the best 'not-bloody-likely' moments happen in the rest of the books, so just you wait until that hits the big screen.

Some who may not play key roles in my delusion, but don't really help it out either:

James Bond and Jason Bourne (Multiple films)
They're dangerous, sexy and keep the world safe from the bad guys.

Prime Minister (Love Actually)

He's into her even if she isn't everyone's idea of perfect, and he's got a lovely accent.

Will Hayes (Definitely, Maybe)
Thank you Ryan Reynolds for making single dads glamorous and sexy.

So, in closing, isn't it shocking that I am still single? There must be dozens of wise, confident, pirate captain vampires who are ballroom dancing their way through San Francisco, fighting bad guys and using English accents.

If you meet one, introduce me.

Oh, and.....

Here's a hot guy for you.

Looking for love...reluctantly.

About a month ago, a dear friend and I were discussing the complete lack of suitable men who spend their time at bars in San Francisco. We compared stories, (which took a while) and decided that San Francisco is a modern day Never-Never Land. The bars are a swimming with Peter Pan wannabes, in whatever flavor you could ask for. Depending on the district, you can find men who wear skin tight pants, men who spend more money at Banana Republic than you ever will, men who just came to our country because they heard you never had to grow up, and men who like other men who never grew up.
Fed up with the whole charade, we took a look at Match.com. Because, as their slogan says, "It's okay to look." And look we did! These were an entirely new breed of the male species. There were doctors, lawyers, environmental engineers. They had hobbies like hiking, and going to museums. They traveled. They READ BOOKS!!!
So the following weekend, in a fit of alone-ness, I signed up. I wrote what I thought was a thoughtful, witty profile, and searched for pictures that were both recent and flattering. This was no easy job, my friends.
The first few days, I was actually pretty excited. I had a whole new pool of doctors who read books and wanted to take me on dates to museums. This was what I had in mind when I thought of dating in the city.
But it turns out, as many things do, that Match.com is not all sunshine and roses...or lawyers and engineers if you will. There are also people who know all the lines from the Lord of the Rings movies. And guys who tell you up front that eating meat is a deadly sin. (To be fair, it is San Francisco.)
And best of all, there are guys who shop at banana republic, guys who wear skinny jeans, and guys who don't want to grow up. In other words. It's just like the bars. It's like someone went down the Marina district and digitized about 7 bars full of douche bags.
So, I've been a member for a month now, and all I have to show for it are good stories. Which I could have gotten at the bar, and at least I'd get a few Vodka-Tonics out of the deal.
So I plan to run away from this as soon as my membership is up...but what I didn't read in the fine print, is that if you don't cancel, they just keep charging you. So I got charged for a new month, and tried my hardest to reverse it. The girl on the phone cheerfully informed me of the fine print of the contract, told me she can't give my money back, and then gave me some helpful dating tips. Have a nice day!
So I'm stuck in this adventure for another month. Stay tuned for the misadventures of my life as an online dater. If I'm not likely to find someone to date, at least I can mine the experience for blogging fun.